


Don't you forget about me

by makingitwork



Series: Peter/Stiles [23]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter, Amnesia Stiles, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Pregnant Stiles, Protective Peter, Spark Stiles, Temporary, m-preg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 10:52:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5704939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Stiles forgets</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't you forget about me

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by the brilliant Insomniac2010 who has amazing endless prompts and this one caught my eyes as most of them do ;)
> 
> 'Temporary amnesiac stiles who forgets who Peter is (maybe result of magical backlash?) bonus points of done while stiles is pregnant'
> 
> I am all about bonus points! xx

Peter growls, and stands up slowly from his crouch, looking around at the dead hell hounds everywhere. He's covered in blood, but not a lot of it is his own, and Scott is healing against a tree, whilst Derek- the only one still in wolf form, had collapsed from exhaustion.

'Very well.' The flaming man nodded 'I accept defeat from this mismatched pack. But-' he waves his hands and all the corpses disappear from the forestry, glimmer away as illusions and Peter's hairs prickle. '- _you_ violated a term of the treaty. You killed a hound who had never killed before. An innocent hound.' He was grinning and Peter glared at him viciously.

'You hid your innocent hound with all the others. We'd have no way of identifying-'

'And so I will take my revenge.' He grinned again, sparkling green around him, before disappearing.

When Peter gets home, he sighs in relief. He can smell Stiles, hear his heartbeat, along with the three pups in his mate's stomach. There's soup bubbling gently on the stove, and a timer has been set. Peter turns the time off, turning the heat down, and goes towards the sofa. Stiles is snoring a little, one hand cradling his stomach, wrapped in a large blue blanket, with one of Peter's shirts tucked under his head. The scent of his mate soothes Stiles more than ever, now he's pregnant. Agents of Shield is on a low volume on the television, and Stiles' lips are parted and sleep soft.

Peter smiles, kissing his mate's forehead and serving up the soup. He also cuts out the last of the cake because he knows how cake puts Stiles into a more amicable mood and Peter is in dire need to take care of his mate. He wants to pander to Stiles' every whim, ease out the aggression he had to built up to fight the hounds. He serves them up and shakes Stiles' shoulder gently.

When Stiles opens his eyes, they go wide with fear. He jerks back and Peter raises his hands innocently

'Stiles-'

'Who are you?' Stiles swallows thickly 'how did you get in here?'

His heart beat is erratic, but he's telling the truth. He doesn't know who Peter is, and Peter gets a sinking feeling in his stomach. This is what the flaming man promised him. He falls to his knees, one hand holding a leg of the coffee table and he starts shaking violently. Stiles stares at him, speechless. And when Peter starts to cry, Stiles flails a little

'Hey there...home invader,' he says softly 'don't...cry. Maybe you're a little lost.' Stiles takes in the soup, and blinks confusedly 'did you make me dinner?' Peter is still staring at the ground, and Stiles sniffs at the soup. It's made exactly how he likes it. 'I would eat that, because it smells delicious, but...you might be poisoning me or something, and I've got three kids man. Well, not yet,' he smiles a little, hand splayed over his stomach 'two girls and a boy,'

Peter looks up at him, and nods 'they're mine.'

Stiles frowns 'Um, no dude. They're mine. You, are a...very handsome, but creepy man who has broken into my apartment, made me dinner, and started to cry.'

'Stiles, the hell hound leader cast a spell on you so you don't remember me. I'm your mate, I'm Peter Hale!' Peter rolls his head around, trying to work out the kinks in his neck 'I'm your soul mate.' Stiles stares at him. So Peter barrels on because he hasn't been stopped 'your best friend and brother is Scott Mcall. You had a crush on Lydia Martin who is a banshee, Derek Hale is my nephew and your father is the Sheriff, your mother was Claudia and she used to call you sweetheart and let you borrow all of her fancy ribbons to make cards.'

Stiles is staring at him.

'Who's the father of your pups, Stiles?' Peter prompts.

Stiles opens his mouth to answer reflexively- before realising he doesn't have an answer. He protects his stomach more tightly. He must have a mate. He feels mated. Yet...when he thinks of who his mate is, nothing comes up. He knows he went to a castle for the ceremony, he remembers rose petals, but he can't remember who was in the room with him. He can't remember anyone thrusting into him. He can't remember losing his virginity! Oh sweet memories, gone, gone, gone! He remembers reading about amnesiac spells when he was a teenager and grapples for his phone, clicking on the photos and just staring. There's an album called 'Wolfie' and he clicks on it with trembling fingers, ignoring the fact that Peter has moved to sit beside him, an arm wrapped around him while he looks through them.

There's a picture of Stiles as a little boy, covered with flour with Peter laughing beside him. Then the awkward teenage years, then a prom photo, and then after a certain date Stiles is always wearing a wolf pendant that just screams Peter. He's staring at memories he doesn't remember creating. A teardrop splats the screen. There are over three hundred photo's in the album, and Peter is present in each one, calming, happy, handsome and _there._ Stiles swallows thickly

'Who did this to me?' He asks and Peter noses his neck. Stiles stiffens. Because though it feels nice, though Peter smells right, he's still a stranger. And Stiles' instincts are telling him to protect the cubs and get away from the lone Alpha Werewolf currently sniffing at his neck. 'Please don't do that.' He whispers, and then feels terrible because Peter pulls away, and he looks exhausted. 'Were you in a fight?' He asks, finally taking in the blood stained clothes

'I was with Scott. Fighting the hell hounds. You couldn't come because-'

'Derek said he'd throttle me if I endangered the children.'

Peter nods.

Stiles shakes his head 'there's a bathroom upstairs, you can get changed, I'll get you some clothes-'

'I live here, Stiles. We chose this place together. I know where everything is, and I know where my clothes are.' And then he leaves. Upset. Stiles stares. Why is he upset? Siles hasn't done anything wrong. He pushes himself up off the sofa and waddles upstairs, gripping the bannister tightly, he hears the shower start and breathes a sigh of relief as he steps into his bedroom. If this is all an elaborate plot and he's had kids with someone and just forgotten because hey, crazier things have happened in this town, then Peter is a very good actor. He opens the wardrobe and stairs.

Some of them are his clothes, but they're all intermingled with leather jackets and jeans that would be too long on Stiles. He thumbs one of the shirts, something sparking in his head for just a moment, before it goes to nothing. It's a very fancy white shirt. Stiles pulls it out, and it's heavy, made of rich, fine material. and there's a deep silver tie around the collar. He circles one of the buttons, bringing it up to his face and sniffing. He doesn't have were-wolf senses though, it smells of laundry, and dust and safety. He examines it, and has the sudden urge to put it on.

'I wore that for our mating ceremony.'

Stiles turns calmly, but the tips of his ears turn orange with the surprise, a burst of magic he isn't able to conceal or stop. Peter smiles kindly, warmly. Stiles coughs, because Peter is wearing a towel draped low on his hips and _oh god muscle_ but he looks out of the window. 'I didn't know people wore clothes during their mating ceremony.'

Peter smiles, stepping closer 'I didn't. You took it off me. Very quickly.'

Stiles ducks away from him, closer to the door but not yet out of the room 'Why do you keep it? I mean...it's just a shirt. And a nice tie, I guess.'

'I don't know,' Peter says, placing the shirt back into the wardrobe, but Stiles gets the feeling he's lying. 'I'm going to get changed. And then we can go to Deaton.'

Stiles nods 'I'm gonna ring Scott.'

'Okay.'

Stiles nods, and turns to leave when

'Oh and Stiles?'

He turns back, and Peter smiles

'Your shoulder, honey.'

Stiles ignores the endearment because he didn't realise the flames were alight along his shoulders, and he blushes with embarrassment as he puts them out and rushes downstairs, to phone Scott. 'Hey Stiles?'

'Scotty, do I have a mate named Peter Hale?'

'Um yes. He's your soul mate. Stiles, have you done another spell? Peter's gonna flip.' He groaned along the line 'can you sort it yourself or are you going to Deaton's? Remember Ben's out of town this weekend.'

'Scotty! Please, there's a strange man in my apartment and you're lecturing me for not taking notes?!'

'He's your mate, Stiles,' Scott says patiently, as though he's explaining this to a kid 'a little taller than you. Really sarcastic. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Peter Hale? Alpha werewolf?'

'Ridiculously good looking?'

'Well, you think so-'

'Meet you at Deaton's ASAP,' Stiles slides his phone back into his pocket and hums thoughtfully. So Peter's his mate? Well he certainly lucked out. Peter seems nice. Makes Stiles soup, is very good looking- 'Ah!' Stiles screams as Peter appears in front of him. The older man looks worried

'Shall I take you down to the car?' He asks, and Stiles nods, before squealing when Peter lifts him up and carries him downstairs. Stiles hides his face in mortification, but none of his neighbours even look up. Oh. Stiles thinks.

'Hey,' he says as Peter goes down the stairs 'are we bad neighbours?'

Peter hums thoughtfully 'I don't think so. We host dinners and we know their names and we give welcome baskets to new people. We don't have horrible house parties like Martin up in six. And you're friendly with everyone. I think everyone in this apartment block likes you. They tolerate me.' Stiles has the sudden urge to make sure that Peter knows he's loved, but he bites his tongue. He doesn't know this man! He reminds himself. Well, maybe he does. But right this moment he doesn't. 'Though we have had several complaints filed against us for the volume of our sex life.'

'What?!'

'I blame you, personally.' Peter says with a grin, and Stiles thinks suddenly this must be a light hearted argument they have often. Peter's eyes have crinkled slightly, as though they're finally comfortable and sure. 'You're a noisy little thing. But then, I do encourage it,' he sighs, grinning 'and you can be so bloody obedient sometimes it drives me insane. You drive my wolf crazy.'

Stiles smiles at that despite himself. He doesn't that. Him!

Deaton seems happy to see them, and diagnoses Stiles easily enough. It's only a 24 hour curse, hell hounds aren't that powerful. And Peter is so relieved he stays up into the dead of night after Stiles has gone to sleep. And the second after 24 hours- actually, it's thirty minutes longer because Peter isn't actually sure of the time the curse was put on, he crawls into bed and kisses Stiles silly. His mate beams, and his toes curl.

'Did you win?' Stiles asks sleepily, and Peter smiles

'You're the ultimate trophy.'

Stiles scoffs sleepily, sliding on top of Peter and getting comfortable 'well I knew that.' He teases, and Peter scents him throughout the night.

...

...

...

'Mommy!' Stiles pouts at the camera 'you can't be in here! We're making you cake!' He hiccups as a burst of powder puffs into his face. Peter chuckles.

'Aw honey, mommy just wants to see you,' Claudia smiles, and Peter wipes the flour off Stiles' nose. Stiles giggles, and hands Peter the baking tray

'Put it in the oven!' He decrees, and Peter laughs

'As you wish, Sire,' and he slides the tray into the heat. Stiles crawls onto Peter's back then, getting sticky flour along Peter's neck and shoulders, and the older man just revels in the attention as Claudia takes photos. 'John's gonna blow when he sees this mess,' Peter laughs 'I'll help clean up.'

'No, no,' Claudia shakes her head 'you go wash Stiles up, I'll take care of the kitchen.'

Peter hoists Stiles up onto his hip, happy to be grooming his mate when he pauses. He touches Claudia's shoulder. 'You wash him.' He says softly 'I'm more than happy to clean up.'

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Prompt and comment!


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